The battlefield fell silent as Deamon chuckled, wiping blood from his lip.
"Damn, old man, I didn't see that coming," he said.
Elias smirked, adjusting his stance. "Well, I didn't want you to die anyway. We need to defeat that thing."
Marquis Arsel approached, his expression grim. "How do we even plan to kill that thing?"
"Simple," Deamon pointed toward the demon. "Hold him for me."
"What?!" they all shouted in unison. "That thing?!"
"Yes," Deamon affirmed. "I have to remove that fragment."
Elias nodded, a rare smile on his face. "Okay, I trust you."
Marquis Arsel looked incredulous. "You're going to do that? You're weird for trusting him."
The demon, observing their exchange, let out a low growl, its third eye glowing ominously.
"Enough talk," Elias said, gripping his weapon. "Let's do this."
Marquis Arsel scoffed, tightening his grip on his sword.
"Tsk. Let's finish this."
He, Duke Elias, and Nyxtriel encircled the demon, coordinating their assault.
